


My Whole H(e)art

by REVVIII



Category: Kingsman (Movies), Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Dogs, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Like seriously one third of this is smut, M/M, Merlin meddles, One Shot, Past Eggsy/Tilde, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Post-Kingsman: The Golden Circle, Smut, The Golden Circle fix-it, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 18:32:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12216504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/REVVIII/pseuds/REVVIII
Summary: Eggsy doesn't deal with Harry's death very well. Luckily, he doesn't have to anymore. But Harry, for whatever reason, doesn't seem too keen on having a relationship with Eggsy even though everyone can see that he's infatuated with the boy, and this is something that Roxy and Merlin are dead set on remedying.Contains spoilers for TGC.





	My Whole H(e)art

 

 

When Eggsy first heard Harry speak outside that police station, he heard sophistication, intelligence, and cleverness woven through the posh, gentlemanly accent, and seeing as at least two of those things were characteristics that he really quite admired in people, he thought the poshness and sophistication just might be forgivable.

When Eggsy turned around and first saw Harry, he saw a tall, handsome, elegant man in a well-tailored, crisp suit whose brown eyes showed kindness that was sharpened by smart-looking glasses and whose posture radiated an almost-casual confidence as he leaned poshly against the wall, and he cursed himself for being even remotely interested in someone as gentlemanly as Harry because everyone knew that gentlemen had silver spoons stuck up their arses and didn’t ever give a damn about low-lifes like him or his mum or his dear baby sister.

When Eggsy had his first _real_ conversation with Harry sitting in that pub a few minutes later, he couldn’t help but be drawn in despite what he would’ve called snarky, posh comments, and he _certainly_ couldn’t help but to let his gaze wander and take in the sharp shoulders, keen eyes, and impeccable posture, and he decided that he might really have to excuse himself for this one because sure, he’d had the nerve to get a crush on a posh gentleman but at least he’d chosen a _hot_ one.

But it was when Eggsy first saw Harry in action, all sharp lines and precise movements and effortless grace as he slammed Dean’s little maggoty friends into the floor or onto the counter and then returned to his seat just as posh and put-together as ever, that he knew for sure that he was done for.

Harry had introduced him to Kingsman, then. Well, not exactly _then_ , but around the same time. In the big picture, Eggsy had thought that little details like that didn’t matter. He just knew that Harry had changed his life. And his little crush grew into something bigger, so that his heart stuttered and his breath caught whenever he met that kind brown gaze, so that his brain stopped working and his palms grew sweaty whenever they were in the same room, which was actually pretty much always, so that when he lay in bed at night and everyone else was asleep he’d touch himself under the covers in the darkness and dream – wish – that it was Harry.

He’d wanted to tell him. He’d wanted Harry to know, because he’d had casual shags before and he’d even dated once or twice but none of that mattered when it came to Harry, since loving Harry felt like his first love all over again, felt like he hadn’t really lived until Harry had come into his life, felt like he wouldn’t have _had_ a life if Harry hadn’t found him.

He’d wanted to tell him when Harry brought him to the tailor, when Harry had taught him how to make a martini like a gentleman and they’d both been slightly tipsy and a small slip like that would have been forgivable, when Harry taught him how to eat like a gentleman and all Eggsy could think about was how those soft, soft lips would feel pressed against his own instead of against that fork that he really had no logical reason to be jealous of.

He’d wanted to tell him when he saw Harry look at him for a split-second longer than was strictly necessary, his gaze lingering for just a moment before turning away, when Harry turned him around to draw his attention to something specific and his fingers brushed against the back of his neck, slid down to the small of his back, when they were once again both a little tipsy and alone in the same room and Harry looked at him and his cheeks had flushed and Eggsy thought that this was a good a time as any to kiss him.

He’d wanted to tell him even after he was kicked out of Kingsman and told to go home and when the disappointment that Eggsy saw in Harry’s face, heard in his voice, after he’d failed to shoot his dog made Eggsy feel like he was being crushed.

Eggsy wanted to tell him. But he couldn’t. Not when Harry was looking at him like that, not when Eggsy felt himself dying inside.

And then Harry had been the one who had died in front of that church in Kentucky, and Eggsy had wondered why he’d ever felt like he was dying before because surely that was nothing compared to this, feeling his heart rip out through his chest, feeling it clenched in a vice-like grip so tight that he couldn’t breathe but at the same time couldn’t do anything but scream, feeling it go up in cold, cold, flames, feeling it turn to black ash, feeling it crumble into dust.

He’d wanted to tell him, but now Harry was dead, and Eggsy would never get another chance, and he wondered why he’d ever thought that little details about his time with Harry didn’t matter.

“Is that it?” he’d asked Arthur later, when he’d gone back to Kingsman and Arthur had proposed to drink to Harry’s memory as if – _as if_ – that would be enough, and he couldn’t hear any emotion in those words, because maybe if he’d had a heart he’d have been able to cry, been able to scream, been able to feel _something_ , but his heart was Harry and Harry was dead and he couldn’t feel anything at all.

“I’d rather be with Harry,” he’d said right before Arthur flipped the switch and choked and died beside him, and he knew it came off casual, knew it came off _cheeky_ , but inside he’d felt dead, and wondered if it would really be so bad to just let go and drift away, as easy as falling asleep.

“I miss you,” he said, over and over again afterwards, after he’d killed Valentine and saved the world and tried to fuck the Swedish princess but ended up breaking down in her arms instead. He didn’t even know what he was saying it _at_ ; it wasn’t like he believed in ghosts, and the only spirits he believed in were the kinds you could drink.

Sometimes he thought that Harry had to be alive, because his heart was Harry and Harry was dead and he shouldn’t be able to feel anything without his heart, but sometimes, in between the hours and days and weeks of complete emptiness, he did feel. He felt so fucking hard that tears streamed down his cheeks in rivers and his throat ached after hours of screaming himself hoarse and his muscles were seized so hard they cramped as he doubled over in tears and agony because why, _why_ the _fuck_ did it have to be Harry? Why the fuck did he have to go to Kentucky, why the fuck did Eggsy not say anything before he’d left, why the fuck did he kill Valentine so quickly because surely he deserved worse than that for taking Harry away from him, why the fuck was Harry the one who had to go, why the fuck was he _dead_ –

He’d be blinded by the wetness in his eyes and then afterwards blink them open to find himself alone in what had been Harry’s room, sitting in his closet because it was still filled with the clothes he hadn’t been able to bring himself to pack away and it still smelled so much like Harry but he spent so long sitting there pressing his face into Harry’s sleeves that it had started to smell like himself too.

_“I miss you.”_

And then Harry was dead again, and he’d feel empty. He’d stand and wipe away his tears, walk to the bathroom and splash his face until the redness faded from his eyes, wait there and stare at himself in the mirror and wonder why he’d cried because he couldn’t feel anything at all.

He ended up dating the princess. She’d been a friend, listening to him splutter and sob and eventually just fall into silence as he tried, tried _so hard_ to accept that Harry was gone, and then over time he figured that if Harry was really gone, why not at least try to move on? Merlin had told him that despite Kingsman protocol against relationships Harry would’ve wanted him to be happy, after all, and Eggsy hadn’t had the heart to tell him that he couldn’t imagine himself happy with anyone but Harry.

It wasn’t like he didn’t love Princess Tilde, because he did. He really did. And she loved him too, but more than anything, she respected his grief. She was there for him when he needed her to be, and gave him space when he wanted to be alone. So it wasn’t really dating as much as it was friends with benefits, he supposed, but he figured that if he was going to move on with anyone, he’d want it to be with her. And still –

_“I miss you.”_

His life became a kind of ritual, really. He’d come home to Harry’s house, which technically was his now that he was Galahad, and he’d say hello to Mr. Pickle in the loo and polish the cases of Harry’s butterfly collection and wonder with regret why he’d never asked Harry about them, and then he’d kiss his princess, and at night lying beside her after she’d fallen asleep he’d stare at the ceiling with a now-familiar aching emptiness in his chest and whisper those three words into the void.

And sometimes, on days when he was a little more drunk and a little more lonely and missed Harry a little bit more than usual, he’d say three different words that he’d wanted desperately but been too afraid to say when Harry had been alive.

 

 

Months passed, and then two years, and things gradually got easier. Eggsy felt his brokenness mending, felt little shards of his heart begin to grow back. Tilde stayed with him through it, as did Roxy, and Merlin, and JB. Roxy and Merlin had known Harry too, of course, and so they shared his grief, and shared his healing. JB was a comforting weight on his lap, in his arms, keeping him company and distracting him in his spells of grief with little pug-noises and grunts and snorts and anxiously affectionate licking.

He still felt a hollow ache when he thought of Harry, but it was a little less crippling now, a little less piercing, a little more manageable. When Tilde said softly one day that she wished she could’ve met him, the memory was enough to make his voice crack, make his hands shake, but not enough to trigger the overwhelming grief the way it once had. And he didn’t have time for those kinds of thoughts on duty anyway. He didn’t have time to think about Harry, about what maybe, potentially, possibly could’ve been, about what he had lost.

Until the day Harry came back.

And _fuck_ , did that complicate things.

Eggsy’s emotions, for one. Because when he sat there zip-tied to his chair in _Kentucky_ of all places and saw Harry fucking Hart behind the glass carefully shaving away his stubble, he experienced more emotion in two seconds than he had in the two years since Harry had been shot, and judging by Roxy and Merlin’s expressions beside him, he wasn’t alone.

Eggsy’s relationships, for two. Because now that Harry fucking Hart was fucking _alive_ , what the hell was he supposed to do?

Although, really, that shouldn’t have been that complicated. Harry Hart was alive, Tilde wasn’t really his girlfriend anyway, and as far as Eggsy knew he was just as in love with Harry now as he was two years ago.

There was just one tiny little problem.

Harry had no idea who he was.

Retrograde amnesia, Ginger had said. They just needed something to trigger his memories, something that had been traumatic, and he should, theoretically, be back to normal. They just hadn’t been able to find out what worked.

So Eggsy stood there, watching as Ginger and Merlin tried again and again to trigger memories to bring back the Harry he knew, the Harry who was a Kingsman, the Harry who didn’t believe that he’d spent his whole life studying butterflies, and felt his newly mended heart begin to crack again.

He couldn’t lose Harry. Not a second time.

“You might as well have me pinned up against the wall because you’re never gonna find a butterfly more interestin’ than me,” he said as he walked into what was, whatever the Statesmen called it, a cell. He’d mustered all the swagger and bravado he could, all that carefree confidence he’d had with Harry, with his Harry, but Harry straightened and stared at him mildly from behind his suitcase, his left eye hidden under an eyepatch and his right one looking utterly bemused, and all of it drained away.

“I’m sorry?”

Eggsy felt his heart thump once, harder than usual. He didn’t even _sound_ the same.

“When you and I first met, I was just like a maggot,” he began.

“Maggots turn into flies. Perhaps you mean larva,” Harry said, mild as ever, with a helpful, genuine, innocent smile, and Eggsy felt his gut twist. He loved Harry, but this wasn’t Harry. Not the Harry he knew.

“Yeah, larva, okay, whatever,” he said, impatiently to hide the pain. “What I mean is, everyone wanted to squash me. But not you. You helped me to become a caterpillar. And now, I’ve got wings. I’m flyin’ higher than I’ve ever dreamed, and it’s all thanks to you.”

“I don’t want to seem rude, but I really need to finish packing,” Harry said, and Eggsy felt his heart sink down through his feet into the center of the earth.

“You can’t give up, Harry,” he said quietly, as the ache in his chest began to grow. “You’re in there; I know it. You’ve gotta fight it.” He paused, and bit his lip, struggling to keep his voice from shaking. “For me?”

Harry was turning back to his suitcase. “I need to finish packing,” he repeated.

“The whole world needs you, Harry!” Eggsy burst out helplessly, and then, brokenly, “ _I_ need you.”

Because it was true. He _felt_ something with Harry. When Harry was around, everything was amplified. Eggsy felt like he could conquer the world as long as Harry was beside him. But when Harry was gone, he felt like nothing. Sure, he could complete his missions, and complete them well. He could fake a smile and pretend that he actually felt happy. But it wasn’t the same.

“I need you, Harry,” Eggsy said quietly, and this time he couldn’t hide the tremor in his voice.

Harry seemed to pause at that, but there was no flicker of recognition in his eyes, no stiffening of the shoulders that Eggsy had grown so used to. Impeccable posture, he’d had.

“I need to finish packing,” he said for the third time, and then Merlin had called him out of the room to tell him he needed to say goodbye.

“I _can’t_ ,” Eggsy said, his voice cracking, his eyes burning with unshed tears as the cell door closed behind him, shutting Harry away. “I can’t let him go, Merlin. Not this time. I can’t do it again.”

Roxy stepped forward and wrapped him in a hug. He hadn’t even noticed she was there; he’d been staring at Harry through the window, watching him pack away his few belongings, begging him to come back, begging him to remember.

“I’m sorry Eggsy,” she murmured.

He felt Merlin’s hand on his shoulder, large and warm and comforting. “There’s nothing else we can do,” he said quietly.

But Harry Hart was in there. He had to be. Eggsy couldn’t give up on him.

 

 

It was JB who gave him the idea, snoozing in his comfy little bed. Innocent, bumbling, a little bit chubby, and Eggsy had thought of the last conversation he and Harry had before Harry had gone off to Kentucky and gotten shot in the face.

Shot in the face, like Harry’s dog would’ve been if the gun hadn’t been a blank.

A thrill of hope ran through him, and he rushed to the nearest pet store and bought a puppy that looked just like he imagined Mr. Pickles would’ve looked like at the prime of his youth. Ginger had said that Harry needed a recreated trauma to bring back his memories, and shooting a beloved dog was as good a trauma as any.

Well, not _good_ , but you get the idea.

And it worked. Eggsy stood there with the gun pointed at the dog cradled in Harry’s arms, and his heart hurt to see the horror and fear in Harry’s eyes as he tried to shield the puppy away from him, his hands very nearly shook as Harry scrambled backwards and yelled at him, pleaded for him not to shoot the dog, but then he saw Harry’s vision flicker, saw the parting of his lips in a small gasp of recognition, saw the memories come flooding back, and he decided that pretending to shoot a dog was worth it.

“I’ve missed you, Harry,” he said, and then they were hugging, pressed against each other and holding each other tight like they would never let go, puppy or not.

The puppy was, fortunately, on the bed where Harry had managed to put him right before he’d wrapped Eggsy in his arms.

“I missed you too, Eggsy,” Harry said quietly, and Eggsy’s face scrunched up where it was buried in Harry’s shoulder. He tightened his grip, feeling his eyes beginning to burn because _God_ , he’d missed Harry so much and it was really starting to hit him, stronger than every before because before it was all rage and despair and confusion and now it was just _not_ , and he clenched his fists in Harry’s gray sweater and bit down hard on his lip to try and hold the tears back but he couldn’t, and then he was sobbing into Harry’s shoulder, great, wracking sobs that shook his whole body.

“Shh, Eggsy, it’s alright,” Harry soothed, and Eggsy was only vaguely aware of the fact that Merlin and Roxy were probably standing behind that glass witnessing everything. Or if not them, Ginger.

“Y-you’re _alive_ ,” Eggsy hiccupped. “And you’re _back_ , you re-rem _ember_ –”

“Thanks to you,” Harry said quietly.

“I missed you,” Eggsy said again. “God, Harry, I missed you s-so much and I didn’t know what to do without you, I just –” He broke off and took a deep, shuddering breath, but it didn’t do anything to stop the tears. _I couldn’t bring myself to love anyone except you._

Harry released him and Eggsy settled back on his heels; he hadn’t realized that he’d been standing on his toes. “I’m not planning on going anywhere,” he said. “I’ll be right –” Now he was the one who broke off, his eyes widening. “Valentine,” he gasped. “Valentine – the SIM cards –”

“It’s alright,” Eggsy interrupted with a teary laugh. “Valentine’s dead. It’s all taken care of.” He tried for a smile and lifted his hands to wipe the wetness from his cheeks, but Harry beat him to it, catching his hands in his own to stop them before releasing them and brushing his own thumb against Eggsy’s face.

Eggsy couldn’t help but to lean into the touch. “I missed you,” he repeated, and Harry lifted his other hand to his face, cupping his cheeks.

Eggsy’s gaze slid to Harry’s shoulder and the corner of his lips twitched into a small, rueful smile. “I ruined your sweater.”

“Sweaters can be washed,” Harry said dismissively, still not moving his hands away.

There was a moment of silence, in which Eggsy’s eyes met Harry’s. Green eyes stared into brown, and Eggsy felt like he was drowning in the dark depths. His heartbeat stuttered and his breath caught in his throat, and he felt like he would be swept away if he didn’t come up to breathe, if he didn’t open his mouth and say something, anything –

“I love you,” Eggsy said, and then froze.

Harry’s hands stilled.

“Eggsy –” he began, and Eggsy heard the hesitation in his voice, how guarded it was, and he stepped back away from Harry’s touch, shaking his head, not wanting to hear anything else.

“I know,” he said, and tried not to sound like his world was being torn apart, because Harry was alive and that was what mattered, not whether or not he loved Eggsy in return, and he should be happy that Harry was alive. That should be enough for him. “I know it’s jus’ me, and I don’t expect anythin’ of you,” he continued, and his voice definitely did _not_ shake, “but I wanted – no, I _needed_ you to know, because I’ve loved you since God knows when and I didn’t get a chance to tell you ’fore Valentine shot you but I _wanted_ to, so now you know but I know you don’t feel the same way but it’s alright.”

“Eggsy,” Harry began again.

“It’s okay,” Eggsy interrupted because he didn’t think he could bear hearing the rejection from Harry’s own mouth, and there was no point in denying how his voice shook now because anyone could’ve heard it. “I get it. You don’t have to justify anythin’ to me, you don’t have to explain nothin’. I get it. I just wanted you to know, because I figure life’s too short _not_ to say anything and I’d lost my chance last time, and with all the shit that’s happened I don’t know how long any of us have left and I figure now’s a good time as any to tell you since if you love someone it’s better to tell them no matter what they might feel, innit? It don’t matter if they love you back or not and in fact, most times it don’t happen that way, but it don’t matter. I love you Harry, and I wanted you to know. I don’t care that you don’t love me back. That don’t matter, just that you know I love you.”

“You misunderstand,” Harry said gently, and he looked pained. “I –”

And then there was a knock on the door, and the moment was lost.

“Come in,” Harry called, and Eggsy hurriedly scrubbed his face with his sleeves because they were still wet with his tears.

“Harry!” Roxy began enthusiastically before catching herself, her cheeks reddening. “I mean – Galahad, sir. My apologies.”

“No need,” Harry said, composing himself with remarkable speed as Eggsy continued to try and erase all traces of his recent emotional lapse from his face.

“It’s good to have you back. Ginger practically ran out to tell us as soon as you got your memories back,” Roxy grinned, as Merlin entered the room with an eyebrow raised.

“Were we interrupting something?” he asked, with a glance at Eggsy.

“Nothin’,” Eggsy said quickly. “Everything’s fine.”

Roxy looked slightly suspicious, glancing between the two of them, but Merlin seemed appeased. He nodded and held the door open for them. “Well if that’s the case, we’ve got a few bad guys to catch.”

And that was that, Eggsy thought. Harry knew Eggsy loved him, and Eggsy knew Harry didn’t love him back.

There was nothing more to it.

 

 

Harry became the new Arthur. After the whole Golden Circle fiasco, of course. Eggsy, Merlin, and Roxy had been the only Kingsmen to survive the missile attack since Eggsy and Roxy had been out walking their dogs (bless them) and Merlin’s address hadn’t been in the database, and they didn’t have time to really appoint new positions while they’d been working with the Statesmen to take out the Golden Circle, during which Merlin nearly gave them all heart attacks when he tricked Eggsy off the land mine and replaced Eggsy’s foot with his own with all the intention in the world to sacrifice himself, which fortunately didn’t really go as planned. But afterwards, they’d returned to London and started the long task of rebuilding, Merlin now wheelchair-bound as Roxy designed bionic legs to replace his own which he’d lost in the explosion.

Miraculously he hadn’t lost more, because _fuck_ , could that man run.

Harry, of course, should have been staying in Arthur’s house, but seeing as it had been completely destroyed, that wasn’t really an option. Neither was staying in Galahad or Lancelot’s houses, since they had suffered the same fate.

 _Merlin’s_ on the other hand…

“Oh, alright,” Merlin huffed with an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes, sounding much more Scottish than normal in his fake irritation, “I _suppose_ you all could come stay with me until we find you someplace more suitable.”

So they stayed at Merlin’s house; Roxy had her own room and so did Eggsy, with Merlin offering to share with Harry.

“It’s quite alright,” Harry said poshly. “It’s your home, and you shouldn’t have to share any more of your space than necessary. If there is no other guest room available and assuming you are able to get from your wheelchair to your bed, I will share with Eggsy.”

Eggsy felt his heart miss a few beats, and his eyes widened.

Harry glanced at him, raising an eyebrow slightly. “I trust that will be alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah,” Eggsy croaked, earning a suspicious stare from Roxy that very quickly turned into a knowing smirk, and he felt color rising in his cheeks. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“That settles it, then,” Harry said with a quick nod, and Roxy’s smirk widened.

“Oh, very well,” Merlin sighed, and gave Harry a look that Eggsy couldn’t read before wheeling himself off down the hall.

So Harry moved into Eggsy’s room. It didn’t take long, seeing as all of his belongings had been in Galahad’s house which had been destroyed.

“You fought well,” Harry commented as Eggsy strolled back into the room after brushing his teeth that night, and Eggsy very nearly tripped, because Harry was wearing nothing but his boxers and a thin white T-shirt and he was lounged on the bed reading a book with his knees a little further apart than strictly necessary _especially_ for a gentleman, and _fuck_ did Eggsy want those long, muscular legs next to his ears so he could suck on a certain something that lay between them.

“S-sorry?” Eggsy managed.

“At Poppy’s HQ. You fought well,” Harry said. He shifted so he was more upright on the bed, and Eggsy noticed that he’d replaced his glasses with his old eyepatch, which Eggsy assumed would be more comfortable to sleep in but figured couldn’t be more comfortable than nothing at all, and concluded that Harry was probably wearing it for Eggsy’s benefit because none of them were used to seeing the jagged, puckered scar where his eye had once been.

“I had a good teacher,” Eggsy said instead of addressing it, and, closing the door behind him, dared to walk forward until he was settled on the other side of the bed next to Harry.

Harry hummed, not looking up from his book. “That you did, if I may say so myself.”

“Not very gentlemanly, is that?” Eggsy asked with a small grin. “Boasting about yourself.”

Harry smirked. “No,” he agreed. “No, it is not. My apologies.”

Eggsy chuckled and settled himself into the covers but remaining upright so he was sitting with his back against the headrest.

“We never finished our conversation at Statesman,” Harry commented presently, flipping to the next page. Eggsy watched his gaze flicker over the paper and felt his breath hitch.

“I…there was nothing more to say,” Eggsy said.

Harry tsked lightly. “A gentleman only speaks for himself,” he said. “You may have finished what you wanted to say, but we were… _interrupted_ …before I could.”

Eggsy held his breath.

There was a moment of silence, during which Harry finished the page he was reading and slipped a bookmark into the book before he closed it. He set it on the nightstand to his left and then turned to face Eggsy.

Eggsy swallowed and forced himself to breathe. It wouldn’t do to be lightheaded from oxygen deprivation, not now.

“I believe we left off with my stating that you had misunderstood me?” Harry asked mildly.

Eggsy nodded, wordlessly.

“And by your expression afterwards, I think I can conclude that you believed the worst; that I did not feel the same for you.”

Eggsy swallowed. “Was I wrong?” he rasped.

Harry shook his head. “Whether or not you were wrong is beside the point. I wasn’t trying to reject you, Eggsy, but you needed to understand. What you were feeling was grief,” he said, patiently and gently as if he were bringing bad news to a small child. “You had lost your mentor, and considering the last conversation we had before I was shot, I believe it would be fair to say that we did not part on the best of terms; something I deeply regret. When you found out I was alive and when my memories returned, you experienced a rush of emotion that you interpreted as love, when it was, in reality, simply a more confusing and less conventional manifestation of grief.”

“What – Harry, no,” Eggsy said with a small, bewildered laugh. “It – well, yeah, there was grief, of course, when you died, but…that’s not what I meant.”

“It can be confusing,” Harry said gently.

“Harry – no, Harry, shut up,” Eggsy said, ignoring Harry’s raised eyebrow at his very ungentlemanly words. Harry was getting it all wrong. It wasn’t Eggsy who misunderstood, it was Harry. “I know what grief is,” Eggsy said. “I know what it feels like, and that wasn’t it. It wasn’t the same.”

“You’re young –” Harry began, but Eggsy cut him off.

“I know I’m young, but that doesn’t matter, does it? You weren’t the only one who lost someone when my dad died. I know what grief feels like, yeah? And don’t give me any of that bullshit with confusing my happiness that you was alive with love, because I know the difference. I can _feel_ the difference, Harry. So don’t try an’ tell me that what I’m feelin’ is something that it’s not.”

“Tell me, Eggsy, do you still feel the same now?” Harry asked, as if trying to prove a point.

“Yes,” Eggsy said immediately, and then Harry paused.

There was a moment of silence, during which Harry seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Yes,” Eggsy repeated. “I do still feel the same. Do you?”

Harry was silent, but he didn’t say no, and in the light of the lamp Eggsy thought he saw the slightest color rise in his cheeks.

“Harry?”

“What I feel is insignificant,” Harry said blandly.

Eggsy felt his heart skip a beat, because Harry hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t said no either, and everyone knew that blushing and avoiding the question was a sign of embarrassed confirmation.

“What you felt…it’s not love,” Harry continued. “It can’t be.”

“I know what I felt,” Eggsy insisted, and he couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. “It was the same as what I felt since before that. Nothin’ had changed, I just…I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell you before…before you died. I love you, Harry, and it don’t matter to me if you don’t love me back, but I can’t have you thinkin’ I just cared about you b’cause of grief or some shit. It’s more than that.”

Harry was quiet for a long time before he spoke, and when he did, his voice was soft, stricken. “You shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t – what?” Eggsy frowned.

“You shouldn’t love me,” Harry said, a little more forcefully.

“What, did you not want me to tell you?” Eggsy asked quietly. “Because I thought…I thought you would’ve wanted to know. I thought that was the _right_ thing to do, but if you don’t want to hear it –”

“That’s not what I said,” Harry interrupted, a little louder than what was probably strictly necessary, and Eggsy could see him struggling to maintain his composure through the blush that was tinging his cheeks pink, through the agitation in his voice. “I don’t mind, Eggsy, but –”

“But I shouldn’t, I know, I heard you.” Eggsy shook his head. “Harry – there’s nothing anyone should or shouldn’t do when it comes to love. Thought you of all people would’ve known that.” He shook his head again. “No, Harry, I love you an’ that’s that. Take it or leave it, doesn’t matter to me as long as you’re happy.”

“And your happiness?” Harry asked.

Eggsy paused, blinking. “My…huh?”

“Your happiness,” Harry said, and he sounded almost fierce. “What of your happiness, Eggsy? You’re young, strong. You have so much life in you and so much ahead of you, and you have so much to give. You have the whole _world_ at your fingertips, Kingsman protocol be damned.”

“I…I don’t understand,” Eggsy said, bewildered.

Harry’s single eye flashed. “Of all the people you could love, you choose _me_ ,” he said vehemently, and Eggsy flinched.

“What, so you’re saying I shouldn’t love you because you’re…what, exactly?”

“Old,” Harry snapped, and Eggsy heard the pain in his voice. “Old, crippled, damaged…”

Eggsy felt his heart clench in his chest, felt his gut twist, as the words hit him. “No,” he whispered, and he dared reach out and put his hands over Harry’s. “No,” he repeated, and his whole body hurt to see the anguish in Harry’s face. “You’re not. Don’t you _ever_ say that.”

Harry tried to pull away from him, but Eggsy wouldn’t let him.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, and gave Harry’s hands a squeeze. “Promise me, Harry, that you won’t ever say that shit about yourself again.” He bit his lip. “And besides, I don’t care about all that,” he continued quietly. “It’s not like I won’t ever grow old, is it? Nah, Harry, it don’t matter what you look like. I could have a whole bunch of the world’s hottest supermodels surrounding me wanting to fuck me and I’d still be looking for you. And you’ve gotta think about your happiness too, Harry. It’s not all just about being young in this world.”

“Isn’t it?” Harry asked quietly.

“Isn’t – Harry, stop it,” Eggsy sighed, partly exasperated, partly pained. “Please. Don’t say that kind of shit.”

Harry was silent.

“Harry,” Eggsy said. “Harry, look at me. I love _you_. And it ain’t grief or nothin’ like that. Trust me.” He released Harry’s hands. “I’d give the _world_ to you bruv, no matter what.”

“Don’t call me that,” Harry said, attempting to sound cross, but Eggsy heard a flicker of something else in his voice, something that he couldn’t dare imagine was hope.

“Bruv,” Eggsy said again with a small grin.

“You really shouldn’t,” Harry said, and Eggsy knew he wasn’t talking about his slang.

“Should, shouldn’t, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “All that matters is what _is_. Life’s too short to worry about anythin’ else. So I ain’t leavin’ you.”

Harry didn’t respond, so Eggsy nudged him.

“C’mon, Harry. It don’t matter to me how old you are or that you’ve only got one eye. You’ve got to believe me. And you’ve got to believe me when I say that your happiness matters to. You’ve got to reach for it, no matter what.”

Harry hesitated. “You…”

“I love you,” Eggsy said, and it still surprised him how easy it was to say now, and he wondered why he hadn’t told Harry before if it was this easy to say. It felt so good, like it took a weight off his chest. “I love you an’ I’m not gonna stop lovin’ you, whether you want me to or not. I don’t give a fuck if you don’t love me back, I’ll still love you, yeah?”

Harry was silent, so Eggsy shook his head, settling down further into the covers and turning off the lamp on the nightstand by his side of the bed. “G’night, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Eggsy,” Harry murmured, and his voice was distant.

The light on Harry’s side of the room stayed on for a long time.

 

 

“ _So_ ,” Roxy said two days later, her hands on her hips as she stood outside Merlin’s bathroom waiting for Eggsy to come out of the shower.

Eggsy winced and clutched his towel tighter around himself, very conscious of the fact that he’d just finished jerking off to the thought of Harry fucking him senseless into the bed. “Hey, Rox.”

Roxy raised her eyebrows. “You and Harry, huh?”

Eggsy winced again. “Ah – no.”

Roxy’s eyebrows raised even further. “ _No_?”

“You heard me,” Eggsy said, trying to edge past her to get back to his room so he could put clothes on, but she followed his every move, cornering him against the bathroom door, and he knew she wouldn’t let him go until he talked. He sighed. “Alright. Well, me ’n Harry…that’s half true, at least. True on my part. But not on his.”

“What, so you think this is an unrequited love-type situation?” She sounded skeptical.

“It sounds sadder when you put it that way,” Eggsy grumbled.

Roxy rolled her eyes. “Excuse my language, but for fuck’s sake, Eggsy, are you blind? Harry’s –”

“ _Quiet_!” Eggsy hissed, as he caught a glimpse of Harry crossing the hall to get from the kitchen to the office, where he would be doing paperwork associated with his new Arthur position.

Roxy rolled her eyes again, but lowered her voice. “Harry’s _infatuated_ with you, Eggsy,” she said softly. “He loves you so much, and the fact that you can’t see it…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “The fact that _he_ can’t see it either…”

“You’re wrong,” Eggsy said. “And even if you weren’t, he wouldn’t want to be with me. He made that perfectly clear.”

“Why, because he’s so much older than you?”

Eggsy flushed and looked down. “Pretty much, yeah,” he mumbled. He bit his lip. “But I don’t care about that, and I _told_ him, he just doesn’t believe me.”

“Ah.” Roxy nodded once as if everything was suddenly perfectly clear. “Well, I’m not sure how much I personally can do with this situation, but it sounds like Harry’s just completely in denial about everything right now. I’ll have Merlin talk to him.”

“Merlin – what?” Eggsy yelped, earning a snort of irritation from JB who was in the process of waddling past him out of the room towards his food bowl in the kitchen. “Roxy, no –”

“Trust me, he’s not going to be happy about it either, he’s already sick of you two staring at each other all the time and pining, but I figure that’ll be more motivation for him.” She was already halfway down the hall, and there was nothing Eggsy could do unless he wanted to shout and draw more attention to himself or run towards her and tackle her to the ground which would only work for about thirty seconds before she would wiggle free again.

“Don’t worry,” she told him over her shoulder, “we’ll have this sorted out.”

And there was nothing Eggsy could do but stare after her in horror.

 

 

Merlin, bless him, didn’t contact Eggsy about this unfortunate situation for over a week. But when he did, it was at the most inopportune time and Eggsy took back all the blessings he’d uttered each day that Merlin avoided the issue; Eggsy had just persuaded Harry to go on a walk with him to give their dogs some fresh air and exercise.

“So, Eggsy and Harry, huh? Are you the new talk of the town?”

Merlin’s voice in his ear caused Eggsy to jump about three feet, and beside him, Harry stiffened and raised an eyebrow, even though there was no way he could possibly have heard what Merlin just said.

“Not now, Merlin,” Eggsy hissed.

He heard Merlin chuckle. “Roxy didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, if that’s what you’re worried about, though that’s not saying much considering I’d deduced most of it for myself, and in fact I’d been planning to take this into my own hands if it didn’t get sorted out quickly. I really do apologize for the delay, Eggsy; how long has it been, exactly?”

“Since what?”

“Since you’ve had your eyes on Harry.”

Eggsy blushed, and beside him Harry coughed very posh-like.

“Um. Basically since…since I joined,” he muttered, trying to sound as inconspicuous as possible. That was a good answer, right? He could be talking about anything. “Look, Merlin, now is _really_ not a good time,” he added, trying to make his meaning clear.

“Since you’ve joined!” Merlin exclaimed, completely ignoring him, though it was impossible that he didn’t know Harry was right there since he was most definitely watching the feed through the glasses that Eggsy had stupidly forgotten to take off. “Well, I guess that rules out the possibility of you suddenly expressing fondness after Harry’s miraculous resurrection because of grief, doesn’t it?”

“…Yes…?” Eggsy stopped walking; JB pulled forward into the grass, circled around about a dozen times, and squatted. Seeing his chance, Eggsy turned to Harry. “You go on ahead, I’ll catch up.”

“A gentleman waits for his suitor,” Harry said dryly, and Eggsy felt his heart thump.

“You’re blushing, Eggsy,” Merlin sighed, and Eggsy realized that he was probably also watching the feed from Harry’s glasses. “No wonder we never sent you on any honeypot missions. So, Roxy tells me Harry knows you’ve got this big crush on him but that he expressed no interest in reciprocating.”

Eggsy flushed, and hid it from Harry by reaching down to pick up JB’s shit with a bag. “Y’know, Merlin, instead of interviewing me, you could be doing something useful like making an automatic dog-shit cleaner,” he said.

“Eggsy,” Merlin drawled. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Yes,” Eggsy snapped, and Harry gave him a sharp look that probably had to do with his manners, or lack thereof. “Yes, okay? That’s what happened. Come on, JB.”

“Gentleman, Eggsy,” Merlin reprimanded him, as JB grunted happily and trotted forward to investigate an ordinary-looking leaf. “I’m sure Harry had his reasons.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Eggsy asked incredulously.

“I didn’t say they were _good_ reasons,” Merlin pointed out, sounding slightly offended. “And I fully intend to have a lengthy heart-to-heart conversation with the man as soon as possible to dissuade him of the notion that any of the things he believes to be barriers are actual reasons to abstain from engaging in a relationship. Especially when you’re so clearly in love with him, and his actions, while well-intended, only seem to be doing you harm.”

“Merlin –” Eggsy began.

“What? You do love him, don’t you?”

Eggsy blushed. “Yes,” he mumbled.

“And you’ve felt this way for years now, so you’re confident that it’s not grief?”

Eggsy rolled his eyes. “Yes, Merlin.”

“And you really don’t care _at all_ that he’s old and crippled and damaged?”

Eggsy felt irritation welling up. “ _Don’t_ say that,” he snapped. “And of course I don’t!”

Merlin plowed right on. “And you think it’s _quite_ inconsiderate of him to know all of this and yet do nothing, even when he feels the same towards you?”

“What – Merlin, that’s not –”

“So it’s safe to say that what would make you happiest right now would be for him to cease being an emotionally-constipated prick and return your affections?”

“What – no! I mean, yes, but I don’t want to _force_ it, that’s not what it’s about –”

“Perfect,” Merlin chirped. “Harry, did you catch all that?”

Eggsy froze.

“Ah, sorry!” Merlin said cheerfully, and beside him, Harry was standing as straight and still as if he had a wooden pole shoved up his arse. “My apologies, gentlemen; I may have neglected to tell you that both of your links were open. Now, Roxy, I’ve done my job, so I bid you both a temporary farewell as I leave you to discuss what follows.”

And then there was silence.

Eggsy swallowed hard. “Harry –” he began.

“My apologies, Eggsy,” Harry said stiffly, sounding slightly strangled but still far more composed than he had any right to be, “but I must return and have a word with our tech expert.”

Eggsy swallowed again. “Yeah,” he managed, and his voice squeaked a little. “Of course.”

“Come, Sir Pickle,” Harry said tersely, and his puppy bounded enthusiastically towards him from where he had been sniffing the base of a tree, and Harry set off briskly in the direction of Merlin’s house. Eggsy watched him go, his palms sweating, his heart beating wildly, and when Harry was out of earshot he let out a long, shuddering breath.

“ _Fuuuuuck_.”

 

 

He tried to put off going back to Merlin’s, since he knew things would probably be unbearably awkward, but after two hours he figured that he’d run out of excuses. Plus, JB was getting quite tired; he was a chubby little pug, after all, and really was a lapdog at heart.

Eggsy stepped into the house, greeted the other household dogs who rushed to the door upon hearing it open, and was in the process of refilling JB’s water bowl with water from the sink when he heard raised voices in the office room, voices that sounded suspiciously like Merlin and Harry.

“Oh, fuck,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Eggsy!”

The cheerful voice caught his attention; he turned to see Roxy walking towards him, munching on a half-eaten pizza.

“So how’d it go? Merlin told me he talked to you.”

“Talked to _me_? What about Harry?” Eggsy exclaimed indignantly.

“Oh, that.” Roxy grinned. “Sorry about that. But you wouldn’t have said anything if you knew Harry was listening in, would you?”

Eggsy made a face at her.

“So, how’d it go?” she asked again. “Harry got back about two hours ago.”

Eggsy sighed and jerked his head in the direction of the study. “Listen for yourself.”

Roxy paused for a moment, wincing as there was the distinct sound of a glass being slammed down too hard on a table. “Ah,” she said.

“Yeah,” Eggsy said, more than miffed. He was alerted to the fact that he was still holding the water bowl in his hands when he felt JB pawing at his leg, and looked down. JB barked raspily once and sat down, panting and wiggling his butt because apparently wiggling his tail wasn't enough, and with a sigh Eggsy brought the bowl over to its spot around the corner and set it on the ground. JB lapped up the water eagerly, and Eggsy straightened to face Roxy again. “Don’t you _ever_ do something like that to me again, bruv. It’s not worth it.”

“Isn’t it?” Roxy asked, tilting her head. Her hair, which she had neglected to pull back, swung over her shoulders, and she crossed her arms. “I don’t know, Eggsy, Merlin can be quite persuasive. He’ll talk some sense into Harry, you’ll see.”

“Oh, will he, now,” Eggsy muttered, but allowed her to pull him towards the closed doors of the office where Merlin and Harry were still arguing. He heard a muffled _No!_ come from inside, louder and clearer than everything else, and winced.

“Go on,” Roxy encouraged.

“What? No, Roxy, wait –”

But Roxy had already knocked. Immediately, there was complete silence from inside the room; Eggsy heard footsteps cross the floor, and a moment later it swung open, revealing a very flushed, very angry-looking Harry.

“Um. Hi,” Eggsy greeted pathetically, looking around at Roxy for support, but she had disappeared. Great.

“Come in, Eggsy,” Harry said tersely, stepping back.

“Um, no, actually,” Merlin called from across the room where he was sitting behind a computer and looking quite cross. “Both of you, out.”

“Be quiet, Merlin, please,” Harry said, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice.

Merlin tsked. “Be a gentleman and show Harry out, would you, Eggsy?”

Eggsy blinked. “Uh…”

Harry very nearly rolled his eyes in exasperation. “That won’t be necessary.” He stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him, heading to the living room.

“Go on, Eggsy,” Merlin’s voice called from behind the door; Eggsy jumped, but ultimately ended up following him down and across the hall.

Harry was seated in one of the plush rocking chairs, his legs crossed elegantly and his hands cupping the ends of the armrests. “Sit down, Eggsy,” he said, gesturing towards the opposing couch, and cautiously, awkwardly, trying to look casual, Eggsy sat.

Harry sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Merlin and I had a…conversation,” he began.

Eggsy raised his eyebrows. “You call that a conversation?”

Harry gave him a look. “Yes,” he said patiently. “Albeit with a bit more frustration than most conversations have. But that is beside the point. Merlin attempted to convince me that it would be in both of our best interests for me to…act on my feelings for you.”

“Act on…oh shit.” Eggsy blinked hard. Harry had _feelings_ for him.

“Language, Eggsy,” Harry reprimanded him.

“Sorry, sorry. But…so did he succeed?”

“That is something I have not yet decided,” Harry said.

“What – wait. So do you like me or not?” Eggsy winced as soon as the words left his mouth; here he was, sitting in front of a posh, intelligent, sophisticated man who he happened to be in love with, and the best he could manage was to sound like a middle-school girl.

“I do,” Harry said, as casually as if he were discussing the weather. “Merlin was, in fact, successful in convincing me to be honest with myself and with you about my feelings.”

“O-oh,” Eggsy said, a little bit stunned, his whole world knocked off-kilter. He shifted forward on the couch. “So…so if you’re honest with yourself and with me, if you’ve admitted it…why _wouldn’t_ you act on it, then?”

Harry clasped his fingers together on his knee. “And thus, we have returned to the conversation we had a little over a week ago.”

“Ah.” Eggsy nodded, immediately understanding. “Well, bruv, I’ve told you a million times, I don’t give a shit that you’ve got one eye and that your coordination needed some work –”

“Or that I am your father’s age,” Harry said blandly.

“Yes. Or that,” Eggsy agreed, and Harry raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Harry, am I gonna have to remind you every day for the rest of our lives? _I don’t care_. So if I was you, Harry, I’d say Merlin was right.”

Harry was silent for a long time, during which Eggsy could’ve sworn he heard a door creak open and then quietly close a few moments later. He heard Sir Pickle’s high-pitched yip followed by JB’s gruff huff of a bark, and a few seconds later they came dashing down the hallway, Sir Pickle chased by a rather enthusiastic pug, and disappeared into what Eggsy assumed was Roxy’s room, judging by the delighted laughter that came from that general direction.

And then Harry stood and walked towards him, his steps purposeful, and stopped in front of him. He knelt so his chest brushed against Eggsy’s knees, and laid one hand gently on Eggsy’s thigh. His fingers pressed in gently, his thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of Eggsy’s leg, and Eggsy did his very best not to move.

And then Harry moved his hand further up so that his fingertips brushed against the folds of Eggsy’s pants where his thigh met the rest of his body and Eggsy couldn’t suppress a shudder, couldn’t stop his lips from opening slightly to let a small exhale escape.

Harry’s gaze was focused downwards, and Eggsy saw the fluttering of his lashes as his eyes shifted from his feet, to his knees, to his hand on Eggsy’s leg, to his chest, and finally to his face, and his mouth went dry when he saw the pupil wide and black and hungry.

Eggsy drew a shuddering breath, unable to resist leaning forward.

Harry brought his other hand up to Eggsy’s face, slowly, almost hesitantly, until it came to a stop on his cheek.

“What…what are you doing?” Eggsy rasped.

“Deciding,” Harry murmured, and he leaned forward and pulled Eggsy down and pressed their lips together.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Eggsy whispered against Harry’s lips before responding enthusiastically, his hands finding their way to Harry’s shoulders and then his neck and then up to his hair, where they tangled in the soft strands to hold Harry closer to him. He kissed Harry like he was dying or drowning or whatever other word would fit, he couldn’t really think right now, and he tasted like sweet honey with a dash of scotch and like dreams come true.

Harry had told him that he’d never fallen in love before, but Eggsy thought that he had to be lying because this couldn’t possibly have been Harry’s first kiss. His lips pressed gently against Eggsy’s, gently but insistently, and gradually Eggsy got the hang of it and let him take the lead. And then Harry’s mouth was hungry, his teeth sharp, nipping at Eggsy’s lip and tugging at it and Eggsy couldn’t hold back a soft whimper, couldn’t deny the heat in his groin that was making him hard. He was so engrossed in kissing Harry – _kissing Harry!_ – that he didn’t even realize he had been scooting forward until Harry’s strong hands were under his thighs and Harry was standing, fucking _picking him up_ as if he weighed nothing more than Harry’s umbrella, and walking forward to press Eggsy’s back against the wall.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Eggsy gasped, and wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, tightening his grip in Harry’s hair, and Harry took the opportunity to lick into Eggsy’s open mouth, his tongue devilish and teasing as it explored, and Eggsy couldn’t help the ragged moan that escaped his throat.

“Eggsy, Eggsy,” Harry chided, sounding almost amused. “Hush now, darling.”

“ _Fuck_ , Harry,” Eggsy choked out; Harry’s hands shifted to grip his ass and his mouth traveled down to suck at a spot under his jaw. He squirmed, yelping with surprise as Harry fastened his teeth over his jugular and _sucked_ , something hot shooting down and causing his hips to buck. His hardness was pressed against the front of his pants now, and he noted with some regret that he was still wearing his bespoke suit, because _fuck_ did that silk feel good against his dick but it also meant, at the rate they were going, that he would need a new one to wear for tomorrow.

Harry huffed a laugh, his breath hot against Eggsy’s skin, and Eggsy felt a shiver run through his body. Harry shifted his grip, carrying him away from the wall and down the hall towards their room, and Eggsy let out a low whine. He shifted his hips, grinding against Harry, wanting to erode away that restraint, that composure, wanting to see him fall apart, see his hair fall, sweat-slicked, into his face, wanting to hear him moan Eggsy’s name.

The thought made him whine again and he kissed Harry’s forehead, his face, anywhere his lips could reach, his hands wandering all over Harry’s body because Harry _loved_ him and he was _acting_ on it and Eggsy felt like he could never get enough of Harry.

Harry set him on the bed, pushing him down so he was on his back. Eggsy fell against the mattress with a huff, his heart racing like a jackhammer in his chest, his eyes wide and his skin flushed.

“You look _ravishing_ , darling,” Harry murmured, and Eggsy’s hips bucked.

“Harry – just get your fuckin’ hands on me, Harry –”

“Hush, now,” Harry said softly with the slightest smile curving his lips. “Have you forgotten what I have taught you already? A gentleman is always patient.”

“I don’t _wanna_ be a gentleman right now bruv,” Eggsy whined, squirming, reaching down to slip a hand into his pants because _fuck_ if he didn’t get friction soon he would _die_ , but Harry caught his hands and pinned them above his head, and Eggsy’s breath hitched because he’d always sort of had a kink for being pinned down. Eggsy felt the bed dip under his weight as Harry climbed on, straddling him and looking posh and gentlemanly as ever.

He had _no right_ to look that posh and gentlemanly, not now. Eggsy would make sure of that.

“C’mere, Harry,” Eggsy gasped, lunging upwards. “Kiss me, I need to feel you –”

Harry’s pupil dilated, the ring of brown nearly gone. “Patience,” he repeated. He leaned down and Eggsy pressed himself upwards, wanting to kiss him, wanting to taste that honey and scotch, but Harry’s mouth met his jaw instead, kissing and sucking with just a hint of teeth grazing against his skin, so light and delicate that Eggsy shivered with the sensation. Harry let out a soft noise, just barely more than a gasp and not even a moan, but Eggsy’s heart rate doubled and he resolved to do whatever he could to hear Harry make that noise again.

“Please, Harry,” Eggsy begged. Harry ground his hips once, just enough that their hips rubbed against each other, and Eggsy’s eyes rolled back in his head as the hard, hot line of Harry’s erection rubbed against his own. His back arched upwards, searching for more contact, but Harry had drawn away again, still crouched over him but not close enough for them to touch.

Harry began sucking a new spot on Eggsy’s neck, just above his collarbone, and the sharp sting of pain when he bit down sent a thrill of arousal to Eggsy’s already erect cock. He gasped and shuddered, crying out as Harry slipped a hand between them and cupped Eggsy’s balls through his pants. Harry’s other hand released the wrist it was pinning down and set to work rucking Eggsy’s beautiful bulletproof dress shirt and vest up around his ribs, exposing his stomach and most of his chest.

“Beautiful, so fucking beautiful,” Harry muttered, and Eggsy moaned, writhing and trying to get completely naked but ending up tangled in his tie. Harry chuckled and undid it with a flourish before releasing Eggsy only momentarily so he could remove his clothes. He took the clothes and made to stand, but Eggsy gripped his arm tightly.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he said, slightly breathlessly.

“A gentleman –”

“Doesn’t leave his clothes lying around, I know bruv,” Eggsy said impatiently, trying to pull Harry down back on top of him. He took the clothes from Harry and tossed them across the room. “There. All taken care of, now get your fucking mouth on me again, yeah?”

Harry did not seem to be particularly against this idea; he allowed himself to be pulled back down and set to ravishing Eggsy again, but this time there was so much more skin, so much more that he could touch, so much more sensation. He swirled his tongue skillfully around Eggsy’s nipple and Eggsy keened, arching up to meet him, only to have a splayed hand on his chest push him back down.

“Harry,” he whined.

Harry kissed back up to his neck and sucked, replacing his mouth on Eggsy’s nipple with his free hand, pinching and squeezing before rubbing away the pain, his hands rough and calloused but oh so delicate, gentle, ravishing him.

“Hush, darling,” Harry murmured as Eggsy cried out and moaned and gasped, still worrying the same patch of skin with his teeth. There would be a mark tomorrow, Eggsy somehow realized through the red haze of arousal, and if Harry thought he could keep his mouth shut between that and the hand stroking his balls he really wasn’t as smart as Eggsy thought he was. “You look so _delicious_ lying there, just where I’ve wanted you for so long, but you must be patient. The act of sex can be so much more than a simple fuck, and I can show you, if you like.”

“Harry –” Eggsy twisted under him as Harry’s hand slipped up to the hem of his pants and paused. He whined, arching towards him, demanding with his body to be touched before he realized that Harry was asking for permission.

“Yes,” he blurted out. “Yes, Harry, yes.”

And then Harry was touching him, slipping under his pants and gripping his cock, stroking it almost lazily. The callouses on his hands caught ever so slightly on the sensitive skin and Eggsy cried out, his head slamming back on the mattress, his mouth open in a high keening as Harry dragged his thumb over his leaking tip, worshipping his body.

“ _Fuck_ , Harry, _yes_ ,” he gasped, and then he couldn’t speak anymore because Harry was kissing him and stroking him and he felt Harry’s erection pressed against his hip and if he felt any more he might pass out.

And then Harry withdrew. Eggsy let out a shuddering breath, too overwhelmed to be immediately disappointed, and then he realized Harry was unzipping his pants and pushing them down his hips.

“Harry –” he rasped, and then he cried out again as Harry took his length in his mouth, his tongue swirling expertly around the tip before he plunged down. Eggsy arched off the bed, his hands fisting the sheets, his toes curling, doing his best not to thrust into Harry’s mouth because he’d had that happen to him before and it was a complete mood-killer when someone was choking on dick to the point where they had to pause and cough and gasp for air, but Harry seemed to have a remarkable lack of a gag reflex.

Harry cupped his balls in his other hand, reaching up occasionally to stroke the base of Eggsy’s dick while his mouth worked the tip, and Eggsy felt the heat building, felt his abs tensing, and he knew it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes but if Harry was going to keep this up he wasn’t going to last long.

“Harry, I can’t – you’ve gotta stop –” he choked out, and Harry released him with a wet pop. His lips were red and his cheeks just a little flushed, and Eggsy felt something rise up in him so strong and hot that it burned him, and he wondered if he’d ever loved Harry more than in this moment.

“Oh, darling,” Harry murmured, pressing his lips to Eggsy’s. His hand was still on Eggsy’s cock, stroking and twisting lightly _just there_ so that pleasure shot up Eggsy’s spine, and it was all Eggsy could do not to come right then and there. “A gentleman is always in control.”

“We’ll – we’ll see about that,” Eggsy huffed, clutching the sheets tighter and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to hold back, trying to not come so embarrassingly soon –

And then Harry leaned down, his breath hot on Eggsy’s ear. “If you’re good, if you don’t come until I let you, I’ll fuck you,” he whispered, and _fuck_ if that wasn’t a good incentive to hold back Eggsy didn’t know what was.

“Shit, Harry,” he gasped, his hips bucking up into Harry’s grip. Kicking his pants the rest of the way off, he brought his hands up to Harry’s hair and tangled his fingers in it, bringing him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and wet and more than a little messy, but he didn’t care because it was Harry. “Get inside me, then,” he managed between kisses, and he felt Harry’s smile on his lips. “And get your fuckin’ clothes off,” he added, because it was not at all fair that he was completely naked and Harry wasn’t.

“All in due time, my dear Eggsy,” Harry said softly, and Eggsy moved onto his neck and bit down and tasted his body wash, his hint of cologne, his sweet saltiness. He flicked his tongue over the same spot to soothe the sting and reached down, trailing his hands over Harry’s sides and teasing at his cock, desperate to unravel that control, as Harry pulled out a condom and lube from his pocket.

“Prepared, weren’t you?” Eggsy gasped out with a grin.

Harry looked faintly amused. He unzipped his fly and quirked his lips as Eggsy let out a moan, seeing him pull out his cock and begin to roll the condom onto it. “Talking to Merlin did have its advantages. He insisted that I take these with me, and I must say I am glad he did.”

“Well, hurry _up_ then,” Eggsy whined, bucking upwards to rub their bodies together, reaching down so he could finish rolling the condom onto Harry’s cock. It was thicker than he’d imagined and he shivered, feeling its slick length in his hands and imagining it inside of him, stretching him out, filling him, and couldn’t hold back a moan. “Fuck, Harry, just wanna feel you inside me.”

“Eggsy,” Harry chided, and Eggsy was very pleased to note the slightest tremor in his voice as Eggsy rutted shamelessly against him, moaning breathily.

“What?” he challenged with a smirk. “Like that, don’t you? Want my hands on you, want to feel me touching you as you fuck me?”

“ _Eggsy_ ,” Harry said again, with a little more emotion, a slight stutter in the fingers that were rubbing circles on Eggsy’s hips.

Eggsy grinned. “Oh, c’mon, Harry, don’t tell me your gentleman composure is slipping already? Didn’t know I had that effect on you, Harry, or are you so thirsty for me that a few dirty words have gotten you all hot an’ bothered?” Harry’s left hand shot up to grip his throat, fingers tightening and slick with lube, but Eggsy’s grin just widened, his dick twitching with interest. “Did you touch yourself at night, thinking it’s me? Do you fuck your hand and imagine it’s me clenching down around you, do you moan my name?”

Harry’s hand squeezed tighter on Eggsy’s throat, and Eggsy swallowed, feeling his Adam’s apple bob against Harry’s palm. Harry’s composure was cracking, Eggsy could see it, and he couldn’t resist pushing at it a bit more.

“Because that’s what I’ve done,” he gasped out, canting his hips for more friction because Harry’s other hand had slipped from his cock to his arse, teasing at his crack, brushing against the tight ring of muscle around his hole. “Me an’ all the other recruits, we were all in the same room but it didn’t matter, I’d touch myself anyways, put my own fingers into myself an’ pretend it was you, scream into the pillow instead of your skin. Did you do that, Harry? Did you dream of me and when you came was it my name that came from your lips –” and then he broke off with a startled gasp as Harry shoved a finger into him, slick with lube.

“Eggsy, darling,” Harry said, and it was very nearly a hiss. “Of _course_ that’s what I dreamed of, darling, it was you, always you. I’ve wanted you for so long, and now you’re here lying across the bed just like I’ve always wanted, open for me to _take_ , ready for me to fuck until you’re screaming my name.”

 _Fuck_ , yes.

Harry leaned down and caught Eggsy’s mouth with his own, his breath hot and wet, his tongue soothing the sting of his teeth. He twisted his finger inside of Eggsy and Eggsy cried out against Harry’s mouth, his eyes widening, because if Harry Hart dirty talking didn’t turn him on, nothing would.

Harry looked faintly amused and Eggsy clenched around him, trying to crack his weakening composure, trying to get him to break, and his smile turned into a snarl. He lunged forward and Eggsy yelped as he fastened his teeth into the sensitive skin of his throat; Eggsy felt him lap at his Adam’s apple, felt him tease at his entrance with another finger.

“Harry, just fucking put it _in_ –” Eggsy choked out, and Harry pushed a second finger into him without warning. Eggsy cried out, his toes curling, his back arching, as Harry’s fingers twisted and brushed against the cluster of nerves deep inside him. Sparks flew behind his eyes, sending spikes of pleasure straight to his dick, and _fuck_ , if Harry didn’t get inside him soon he felt like he might die with how hard he was trying to hold back, how hard he was trying to be good for Harry so Harry might fuck him longer.

Harry added a third finger, scissoring and twisting and stretching him out and it stung a little bit but the pain was so good and every time Harry brushed against his prostate it pushed him ever close to the edge, and he could’ve sworn that he was only held back by the pain of Harry’s teeth fastened in the sensitive skin of his throat.

“You’re so tight, darling,” Harry murmured against Eggsy’s neck, and Eggsy could feel the shakiness of his breath, feel the heat of his arousal, feel the heat of his flushed skin. “So fucking tight, my good boy, so fucking tight for me.”

“Harry,” Eggsy gasped, “Harry, I’m ready, just get your fucking cock in me already –”

“Patience,” Harry chided, releasing his throat, but his voice lacked conviction; Eggsy looked at him and felt his heart jump; his carefully coiffed hair was starting to fall forward into his eyes, his pupil was blown, his glasses were slightly askew – _fuck_ , Harry was wearing his _glasses_ –

And then Eggsy burst out laughing.

Harry withdrew his fingers and Eggsy gasped, shivering at the sudden cold and emptiness, but couldn’t stop the laughter.

“Y-your _glasses_ ,” Eggsy giggled. “They’re still on.”

“So they are,” Harry said wryly, raising an eyebrow and looking slightly miffed that he’d been interrupted in his quest to fuck his darling boy.

Eggsy felt quite hysterical at this point, and tears were starting to leak out of the corners of his eyes; Harry’s irritation waned and he was in fact beginning to look quite concerned.

“Eggsy?”

“M- _Merlin_ ,” Eggsy gasped. “Fuck, he can see all of this, he can hear this –”

And then he couldn’t talk anymore because Harry pushed into him with his cock without warning, filling him and stretching him to the point where it almost felt like he hadn’t been prepared at all. Eggsy’s breath left him in a gasp, his eyes widening. Harry stood there sheathed in him, unmoving, looking down at him hungrily.

“So he can,” he said mildly, and Eggsy’s cock was _aching_ with lust at the way he _still_ sounded so fucking composed even though his hair was starting to come out and his tie was wrinkled and his face was flushed and his neck was covered with marks – Eggsy’s marks – that would be there for _days_. “Do you mind?”

And _fuck_ , Eggsy very nearly came right then and there. “No,” he managed to gasp out. “No, I don’t give a shit what Merlin sees, just fucking _move_ already, Harry –”

Harry drew back and then snapped his hips forward, driving back in, tilting _just so_ until his cock pressed against Eggsy’s prostate with every thrust. Eggsy cried out, his head slamming back against the mattress, seeing fireworks behind his eyes. His mouth was open as he gasped for air because the pleasure rocked his body so hard that he could barely breathe, his hands clutching the sheets so hard that his forearms were beginning to cramp up.

“Fuckin’ _hell_ , Harry,” he cried. He was so hard that it was painful and he tried to bring a hand down to stroke himself, get a little bit of the friction that he so desperately needed, but Harry batted his hand away, taking his cock in his hand instead, and then Harry was stroking him in time to his thrusts and Eggsy couldn’t _believe_ the sounds that were coming from his mouth. Eggsy clenched down around Harry, rocking his hips back and forth to try and meet Harry’s thrusts halfway.

“So good, you’re so good and tight for me, darling,” Harry panted, leaning down to mouth at Eggsy’s neck, chest, collarbones.

“I want to hear you, Harry,” Eggsy gasped, finding Harry’s free hand and lacing their fingers together, squeezing hard because he needed to hold onto _something_ , needed to ground himself so he didn’t come before Harry told him he could. “Come on, Harry, moan for me, I wanna hear you when you fuck me, I wanna hear you scream my name when you come inside of me.”

“ _Fuck_ , Eggsy,” Harry moaned, and then he let another gasp slip and even in the throes of pleasure Eggsy felt a burst of satisfaction because finally, _finally_ , Harry had cracked, and it was something so beautiful and perfect, the sight of Harry _wrecked_ , that Eggsy thought it might even be forgivable that he wasn’t even remotely naked. His hand stuttered on Eggsy’s cock and he drew back, sweat-slicked. “I want to see you when you come, Eggsy,” he said, still trying for composure.

Eggsy’s entire body tensed, the heat in his stomach coiling. “So fucking beautiful, Harry,” he managed, prying his other hand off the bedsheets to cup Harry’s cheek. Harry’s hair was wild, sweaty and hanging free in his face, and forget his tie being _wrinkly_ ; it had downright become undone, and his pupil was blown. He was panting and gasping and letting out soft moans as he thrust into Eggsy and Eggsy felt the heat building, felt his orgasm coming on, so much faster now that Harry had finally lost control, now that his composure was ruined.

“Harry,” he choked out. “I’m – Harry, I can’t –”

“Come for me, Eggsy, my darling,” Harry hissed, lunging down and taking Eggsy’s bottom lip between his lips. He tugged at Eggsy’s lip, his pace increasing on Eggsy’s cock as he thrust faster into Eggsy’s body, and Eggsy felt his balls draw up, felt his back arch involuntarily as he spilled into Harry’s hand with a cry of his name.

He fell back against the bed with a soft gasp, aftershocks still rocketing through him, but he tried to keep moving, tried to keep it up for Harry because Harry hadn’t come yet, but he had to be close, he felt huge inside of him and Eggsy could see the effort it took him to hold back.

“Don’t hold back,” Eggsy said, pulling him down to kiss him. “C’mon Harry, say my name, I wanna hear you.”

And Harry came a moment later, his breath catching as he gasped out Eggsy’s name, his body shuddering, his heartbeat racing against Eggsy’s chest. He collapsed against him, breaths coming hard and fast until he recovered and pulled out.

“Ruined your suit,” Eggsy murmured, unable to suppress a grin at the sight of his come, sticky and drying against the front of Harry’s suit.

“Suits can be washed,” Harry said poshly. He pulled the condom off and tied it, tossing it into the trash bin, before unbuttoning his shirt.

“Oh, _now_ you start stripping,” Eggsy grinned tiredly; he was starting to feel sleepy, and he knew he would feel disgusting when he woke up if he didn’t get cleaned up now, but he figured he’d deal with that when the time came.

Harry simply arched an eyebrow and kept stripping, neatly folding his clothes and placing them in the basket to wash later. He gestured at Eggsy’s, still strewn all over the floor.

“Ah, I’ll take care of it later, bruv,” Eggsy said, waving dismissively. “C’mere. Wanna nap.”

“Don’t call me that,” Harry said, but climbed into bed beside him. Eggsy burrowed into his warmth and Harry draped an arm over Eggsy’s waist, holding him close, pressing his nose into Eggsy’s hair and inhaling. “My darling,” he murmured.

“I love you,” Eggsy said, his words muffled by Harry’s neck.

He heard Harry’s hum of contentment. “And I, you.”

“So…so you’ll stay, yeah? We’ll be a thing now, you an’ me?”

Harry sounded amused when he answered. “Yes.”

“And none of this self-deprecating bullshit anymore, alright?”

Harry laughed. “I’ll try my best, Eggsy.”

“Good.” Eggsy grinned in contentment, his eyes already drifting shut. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

 

They woke two hours later, stuck together as Eggsy had predicted. Eggsy peeled himself away and sat up, stretching and glancing at the time to see that they had half an hour before dinner.

Harry made a very wise decision to shower before the meal. Eggsy pulled on his boxers for the short trek through the hall to the bathroom; Harry slipped on a bathrobe and opened the door.

Merlin was wheeling by. He stopped as the door opened, looking briefly at Harry before his gaze flickered behind him to Eggsy, and then he sighed, shook his head, muttered, “Oh, for _fuck’s_ sake,” and made his grumpy way past.

He owed Roxy ten pounds now.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was born and raised in the US, so apologies if you have issues with the way I wrote Eggsy's accent! I watched a bunch of videos to try and get the speech patterns accurate without making it too distracting, but I'm open to suggestions and feedback!


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